


connecting roots

by icelyvelvet



Series: thirium flower [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gen, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Markus’ POV, Multi, Protective Markus, Purple Prose, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 23:53:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14862699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icelyvelvet/pseuds/icelyvelvet
Summary: It’s probably a terrible idea to form an attachment to an unstable deviant hunter, but how can Markus resist when Connor looks like a lost puppy?





	connecting roots

It’s cold outside but he doesn’t feel anything at all. 

Markus sits, his hands on his knees. He watches the howling wind carry snowflakes like powdered sugar across the darkness. As dots of white snow clings to his coat, he wonders if the inability for the chill to settle in his bones makes him any less alive. 

Tensions are high between androids and humans but there’s nothing to be done as Markus has yet to reach a decision. He’s wrung out and simply can’t think of the right thing to do. 

At this hour, most humans would be in bed, but androids don’t sleep. It’s not fair for humans to be blessed with moments of peace and nothingness without the fear of never being activated again, Markus thinks to himself. This was another problem; the more hours he had awake, the more time he got to overthink and drown in a pool of his own dismal thoughts. 

The metal door creaks open, breaking Markus’ train of thought that was heading down a darker place. He stands up, tense and ready to face the intruder. 

The deviant hunter- Connor- peeks in, his face painted with tentativeness. 

“Oh- I’m sorry, I thought no one was here,” Connor says, about to close the door and leave. 

“No, it’s okay. Stay,” Markus says, taking a few steps towards Connor. The words tumble out before he even realizes what’s coming out of his mouth. 

“Are you sure?” Connor asks, slightly surprised. Usually one would prefer to spend less time with someone who just pointed a gun to their face not too long ago. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t doing anything anyway,” Markus says. He returns to his seat- a wooden crate, nothing terribly fancy. 

Connor closes the door behind him and follows, sitting near but keeping a respectful distance between the two of them. 

“Thanks, I didn’t know where else to go,” Connor says, “I’m not sure how many people know about me, but it still didn’t feel right to casually be with people I was probably hunting down a few days before.” 

Connor takes off his beanie, setting it down beside him. His russet brown hair, usually neatly gelled back, is ruffled. 

Markus notices that Connor is, almost to a ridiculous point, wrapped up quite cozily despite the fact that he was most likely impervious to the weather. He’s pretty sure Connor’s dressing choices are made by the humans, to make them feel more at ease. 

Thinking about how Jericho- North, Josh, and everyone else in it- has become Markus’ home makes him realize that he knows really little about Connor. 

“Do you have anyone out there? A place to go home to, or is it always just back to the labs of CyberLife?” Markus asks. 

Connor ponders the question for a second. His face softens as the thought of someone flickers into his mind. 

“I suppose I do...I’m not sure if it fits the bill, but there is a person who’s very important to me,” Connor says. 

The delicate expression that unfurls across Connor’s features like the gentle wings of a white dove is the closest thing to a smile Markus has seen from him ever since they met. 

Connor’s face falls quickly and he entwines his hands on his lap in distinct worry, looking like a reprimanded child. 

Markus wishes Connor’s emotions weren’t as clear as glass because he hates the way his heart strings are so easily tugged by what he’s seeing. 

“I can’t back though, not now. It’d be dangerous, CyberLife might make him a target and I would never want anything bad to happen to him,” Connor says. 

The wistfulness in Connor’s gaze is another stab in Markus’ chest, and he wonders if CyberLife created someone who could stir such emotions on purpose. It might’ve just been the side of him that wanted to save everyone speaking, but Markus is overwhelmed with the urge to erase the hurt and make Connor feel better. 

“I promise you, everything’s going to be okay. I’ll bring peace to both of our worlds so we can live safely once more,” Markus says. 

“I appreciate it, the things you’re doing for our kind,” Connor says, his deep brown eyes looking up to meet Markus. A little sorrow has drained from his face, but he still doesn’t look extremely convinced. It’s not enough for Markus. 

Without thinking too much about it, Markus reaches over and his hand closes around Connor’s. Connor blinks in surprise but trusts Markus enough not to break the grip. 

It must be his imagination because androids don’t have normal body temperature, but the hand Markus is holding feels warm to him. 

A stark white hue bleeds from the tips of their fingers to their wrists as Markus feels the connection being made. 

Their minds brush past each other and a soft gasp slips from Connor’s lips. It occurs to Markus that he’s probably never experienced something on this level with another android before. 

Memories flow steadily across the stream they created. As Connor’s eyelids flutter shut, Markus knows what memories he’s receiving: the mellow golden rays of sunlight spilling through windows as he pulls open velvet curtains, the sweet rush swelling in his chest he got from caring for someone. It came in bold colorful strokes like the comforting sweeps of a soft brush across a blank canvas, breathing life into it. 

In contrast, the slivers of Connor’s life that poured into Markus are cold and methodical. The overly sterilized scent of laboratories, harsh white light being the only color among walls of daunting black and blue. Worse of all, there’s the permanent scar of something no one should ever know- being familiar with death, the burst of fear deep inside before his system failed and everything faded to black. 

Amidst the shadows, there’s a small bud of hope and light, the rare moments of happiness, blooming in something, someone, but the connection breaks before Markus has a clear picture of who it is. 

Fragments of Connor’s memories lingers on Markus’ tongue, sharp and bittersweet. He’s almost choking on these emotions, and it leaves an even unbearably stronger need to fix the broken things. 

Connor slowly opens his eyes ( _I could drown in that dusky copper,_ Markus thinks) and Markus realizes that they’re still holding hands. He notices the way a strand of Connor’s hair falls unto his face and resists the temptation to brush it aside. 

Becoming too aware of Connor’s presence, Markus hastily pulls away. 

After a beat, Connor says, “Thank you.” 

As simple as they are, Markus can feel the sincerity of Connor’s words and it sits heavy in his heart.

It’s as if Markus has somehow been reborn. For the past few days that were muddled in chaos and destruction, the reason he began fighting for revolution had gotten lost amongst all the mess and doubt was brewing in his mind. But now, it shines brightly in him once more. 

Markus is glad if the brief times of happiness in his life can bring Connor even the slightest warmth. Similarly, even if sharing Connor’s darkness opens a hole in Markus he never knew existed before could lessen Connor’s burden, then so be it.


End file.
